


It Loses Something In The Translation

by ThroughTheTulips



Series: I don't think that means what you think it means [1]
Category: Stargate - All Series, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Gen, M/M, Misunderstandings, Stargate crossover ficlet, Tumblr Prompt, but i might write some more if i do more laundry who knows it's hot back here, but not really, i think the word for this is crack, the Sterek is more attraction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 09:38:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4999846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThroughTheTulips/pseuds/ThroughTheTulips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So I found this prompt from azzandra over on tumblr. I’m really sorry because I think this is in none of her fandoms, but I wrote a ridiculous Teen Wolf/ Stargate crossover ficlet while I was doing laundry and posted it here for reasons I don't entirely understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Loses Something In The Translation

**Prompt:**

 

> Whenever I see a post on tumblr suggesting aliens don’t have gender, I always think–‘but what if also the reverse. What if aliens also have some fundamental social construct we don’t’.
> 
> Like, they come and meet us and they’re like ‘hey this is an awkward question but what’s your gooblebygark?’
> 
> And we’re like what.
> 
> ‘You know, the… the thing. Your goobledygark. The thing that dictates whether you’re gnarfgnoovles or brubledoopes’
> 
> What. What. What the fuck, those words don’t even mean anything??? What are you talking about?
> 
> ‘Look, your ridiculous human languages don’t seem to have the words for these! But they’re totally a thing, they’re like, fundamental aspects of social life for our species, just… just let us lick you so we can know what verb tense to use when we speak to you.’
> 
> What does one thing have to do with the other??? That makes no–
> 
> ‘UGH, nevermind, you’re totally brubledoopes, I can just tell, I don’t even need to taste your bacterial skin colonies.’
> 
> And then another alien overhears and is like ‘holy shit, you can’t stereotype like that, that’s SO NOT COOL’
> 
> ‘yeaH BUT THEY WON’T LET ME LICK THEM’  
> 

 

“I don’t think they like us.”

Derek jerked to attention when Laura spoke. “Huh?”

“I said, I don’t think they like us very much,” his sister repeated. She was staring at the little cluster of villagers, hand resting on the butt of her rifle. “They’ve been arguing for ten minutes. Maybe we should pretend to leave and circle back.”

It wasn’t the first time they’d gotten a nervous reaction. After all, the only people coming through the Stargate this side of the galaxy were Wraith. Locals were smart to be worried. Mission protocol called for patience and tolerance, neither of which were Laura’s strong points. Still, she was the team leader. Derek swallowed a sarcastic comment and said, “Why don’t you just talk to them?”

“You do it,” she retorted. “You’re the anthropologist.”

“I’m a linguist.” Derek was fluent in twenty-four Earth dialects and six alien ones. Put that together with the fourth strongest Ancient gene in Atlantis and he was constantly being dragged out of his lab into the field, never mind how bad he was at talking to people. This mission was a prime example. Instead of studying the mysterious tablet from M3X-448, he was stuck here with Laura’s team watching a trio of improbably attractive natives whisper about them.

The faster they got through this, the sooner he could get back to his translations. Derek raised his voice. “Hey, is there a problem? We don’t want any trouble.”

The group leader, an olive-skinned man with an uneven jaw and floppy brown hair, gave him a sheepish smile. “Oh, uh, no problem. Sorry. We’re just trying to figure out where to take you.”

“Where to take us?” Laura asked, frowning a little. “We don’t plan to stay the night. If you could take us to meet your elders that would be just fine.”

“Yeah, but…” The man rubbed his neck. “We, uh. I’m sorry, but we don’t know which gate to use.”

“Of your village? Don’t you know which gate to use?”

He went beet red and stared at the floor. His companion, a sharp redheaded woman, huffed irritably. “Scott, you are a complete infant. They’re the ones using the blockers, they should know we can’t smell them.”

Derek glanced at the other Atlanteans, but they seemed as confused as he was. “Blockers?”

“You’re hiding your scent.”

A lightbulb went off in his head. “Do you mean our deodorant?”

“If that’s what you call it,” she said with a sniff. “You smell like trees and flowers. I don’t know where you come from, but that’s very rude here.”

Boyd and Erica laughed out loud. Laura shot them warning glares before smiling at the villagers. “We’re so sorry about that. Among our people it’s rude to have a strong body odor in public, so we wear creams to keep from offending anyone.”

The third villager, a beautiful pale man who Derek had been discretely ogling, brightened. “That makes so much sense!” he said excitedly. “They’re explorers, of course they couldn’t run around reeking of micret.”

Scott’s blush deepened. “Stiles!”

“What? It’s a biological term, Scotty. We’re all adults here.”

“Focus,” the redhead snapped. “I don’t want to stand here all day.”

The leader made a soothing sort of gesture, probably an apology. “Lydia is right. Um.” He gave Laura a hopeful look. “Sorry to ask, but if you could just tell us your usions we’ll get you sorted and take you back.”

Laura stared blankly. “Our what?”

“Your usions.” Lydia drew the words out, like she was talking to small children. “Are any of you caless or tenass? I thought we should take you all through the lossal gate but of course that’s asking for disaster if any of you are near gramoret.”

The Atlanteans turned to Derek, who shrugged helplessly. “Don’t look at me, those aren’t words in any language I know. Maybe it’s a social thing? Some kind of gender ranking?”

“We’re not fools,” Lydia said, narrowing her eyes. “We can see you’re two males and two females. We just need the other half of the equation.”

That made zero sense. He scratched his chin, thinking hard. “That- are you asking about rank?”

“I think they use different words,” Stiles offered. “The Ancient translator works pretty well but there are always a few glitches. Let’s try it this way. Who has a sculta and who has a wreton?”

“A… what’s a sculta?”

“You know, on your…” The man gestured at his friend’s crotch for some reason. “The sculta? Big bulby thing, inflates to keep you locked in the wreton?”

Boyd and Derek stiffened in unison, hands dropping to cover their groins. Erica snickered. “Hey Derek, I think he wants to see your dick.”

Scott looked like he wanted to sink through the ground. “I give up. Can we just go home and pretend we didn’t see them?”

“Their blockers can’t be perfect.” Lydia shook her hair back over her shoulders. “If I lick their throats I should be able to get the scent straight from their glands.”

She moved towards Derek purposefully. He scrambled backwards, hand coming up to cover his neck. “What the hell? No licking! Laura, tell her no licking.”

Laura was leaning on Erica, both laughing so hard tears were pouring down their faces while Boyd stood by in amused silence. None of them even tried to help as Lydia literally chased Derek around the clearing. “Don’t be childish, it’s the only way to tell.”

“Please stop trying to lick the visitors,” Scott moaned, covering his face. “They’re going to think we’re proposing and then what will I tell Kira?

She stopped and threw her hands up. “Fine. Anyone this touchy has to be a tenass anyway, they’re probably all tenassi.”

“Hey, I’m  _right here_ , Lydia” Stiles protested. “Besides, you can’t just go stereotyping like that.”

“BUT THEY WON’T LET ME LICK THEM!”

It was too much. Derek turned tail and sprinted back towards the Stargate. He was going back to his lab, back to his nice safe artifacts, and he was never coming out again. Director Deaton could send some other poor schmuck here to be licked.

He entirely ignored the tiny voice asking whether he’d have minded so much if Stiles had been doing the licking.


End file.
